


Phoenix and the Sun, The

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M, Relationship(s), Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-06
Updated: 2003-03-06
Packaged: 2018-11-20 06:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11330097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Enroute to safety, airports and airplanes lead to discoveries and disclosures.





	Phoenix and the Sun, The

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Phoenix and the Sun, The

### Phoenix and the Sun, The

#### by Jami Wilsen

Title: The Phoenix and the Sun 

Pairing: M/K 

Rating: NC17 for m/m sex, language, romance, RST, relationship 

Disclaimer: They are yours. All yours. 

Website: http://www.catthause.com/jami/jami.htm 

Cover Art: http://www.catthause.com/jami/xfiles/phoenix.htm 

Feedback: 

Series: Yes, this is the second in three so far. First one is Hearts and Flowers. 

Spoilers: We don't need spoilers. But, the show must go on! 

Beta: Cattnip, Erin, Satina 

Warning: AU from canon after Essence/Existence. Yeah, he died - but the aliens brought him back. ;) 

Summary: After Hearts and Flowers, they take it to the next level. Airports and airplanes lead to discoveries and disclosures, on the way to safety. 

The Phoenix and the Sun 

The alarm is blaring, cutting into Mulder's dream-state. Opening his eyes, he wonders why he feels so uncommonly relaxed. Fumbling to turn off the alarm, he yawns, absently noting that his ass feels...sore. 

The memories of the night before flood back into the surface of his consciousness, the forefront of his mind overwhelmed under the sudden onslaught of impressions. 

Alex Krycek. Whoever would have believed it? He grins to himself and turns over. 

The bed is empty. His cheer slips away and he lifts his head, looking around the room. Krycek's clothing is nowhere to be seen. Even his boots are gone. Feeling the sheets, they are cold to the touch. A tiny dart of misgiving is niggling at him but he ignores it. He has a long journey ahead of him. 

He sits up and yawns again, placing his feet on the cold hardwood floor. Too bad the waterbed didn't burst this time. He really wishes it had. He's never going to get his deposit back on this place anyway, and it would be so fitting after the trouble that the manager gave him after that first time it soaked through all the way down to the apartment below. 

Mulder pulls on his sweatpants and a t-shirt and, after a grimace at the cold as it's seeping into his feet, a pair of socks. In the bathroom, he splashes water on his face and tries to ignore the feeling of despair and melancholy that is starting to overcome him along with the cold. 

A flare of anger hits him, surprisingly. Son of a BITCH. Couldn't even say goodbye. 

He feels screwed, and screwed over. So much for hearts and flowers, so much for love, he thinks caustically. And so much for trust. I should have known. The bastard's never been consistent - why did I actually let my guard down and believe that he had changed? Hell, how do I even know it was really HIM? I watched his body hit the ground after Skinner's bullet ripped- 

Stop. Don't go there. I don't need this, I don't need to be dwelling on the memory of a dying man when I probably fucked myself on the facsimile of his corpse. 

Maybe it was all a dream anyway. But he can't believe that; his ass still hurts. Mulder sighs, looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. It's all foggy. He rubs away at it, but the condensation is so thick that it creates smears and just makes him look even more wiped out. 

The Fucker's gone and left him. With a resigned sense of reality and futility now firmly in place, he leaves the bathroom and enters the living room. The room looks normal, like Krycek's arrival the night before could easily have been a dream. 

In the kitchen, however, he sees Alex Krycek in a sweater and his ubiquitous black jeans, looking up at his appearance in the kitchen doorway. 

He stops. No wonder the bathroom mirror was steamed up. Krycek must have showered. 

With a wide-eyed expression, Krycek stares back at him, as if unsure what to expect. "I made coffee." He's holding a half-eaten piece of toast. 

What? Mulder stares at him, rather surprised at how glad he feels to see Krycek, even after believing he'd left. He smiles. 

And then says, "What the hell? Where did you... Why'd you go? I've already got coffee - and bread." 

Krycek gives him a funny look. "We're going on a road trip, Mulder. I had to go pack and get supplies." 

"Supplies?" 

Krycek nods at a package on the kitchen counter. "We used up all your lube last night." 

Mulder grins. "Yeah, we did, didn't we?" The surreality of knowing that Krycek hasn't screwed him over again and actually appears nervous but committed to going with him, well... It's heartwarming. Mulder realizes also that his assumption that Krycek had deserted him again was based on events from the past. It is a reaction to a Krycek he knew before, not the one standing before him looking... delectable. He can't stop grinning in fact, and he watches as a little uncertain smile is echoed on Krycek's face at last. 

God, those eyes. Staring back into his, entreating, begging, pleading... He wants to drown in them. And in him. Shaking himself slightly, Mulder asks, "Shall we take your car or mine?" 

Krycek raises a brow at him. "Depends where we're going." He turns to pour a cup of black coffee and then hands it to Mulder. 

Taking it, Mulder sips cautiously. "Well, I thought we'd leave the car at a station. Abandon it, and take a train. They're unlikely to realize that's what we've done, by the time anyone who's looking for me catches on. As for our destination, I thought Arizona made sense." 

A furtive look crosses Krycek's face before he can stop it and Mulder frowns slightly. Krycek must know something. But Krycek merely says, "If you think we're going to travel like a couple of hobos, you've got another thing coming. I've got more than enough money and resources to put us up in 5-star luxury every stop along the way." 

A sense of pride and self-respect digs at Mulder, not to mention the suspicion that Krycek must be dipping into some foul stash of misappropriated funds to be able to afford such accommodations. But he's hardly in a position to argue it with Krycek, seeing as his father's blood money had raised both him and his sister Samantha up to the point where she'd been taken, and had actually got him through college. He sighs. "No, that's not necessary. I won't allow-" 

"I've already booked a flight to Helena and a room for us in the Hilton." 

A self-satisfied little smirk finds its way onto Krycek's mouth, curling his lips in a fashion Mulder used to find infuriating enough to galvanize him into beating it away with his knuckles. He notes absently to himself that now it simply makes him want to kiss it away instead. Kissing Krycek seems to reduce him from a smug, overly contented danger to a shy, attentive marshmallow. 

But he knows if he starts kissing the man now, he won't be able to stop. The urgent need to get away and get a head start on the day's travels is warring with his cock's sudden insistence for more action, even after the two earth-shattering orgasms he's had not four hours before. 

Letting out a breath, Mulder repeats, "Helena? Montana?" 

Krycek nods. "For starters. Any particular reason why Arizona is our final stop?" 

Mulder narrows his eyes. "What do you think?" 

Krycek looks away and won't meet his gaze now. "Gibson Praise," he says, with a sniff and that trademark lift of his chin. Like he's trying not to give in to insecurity and trying to bolster his confidence. Like he's got a guilty conscience. Which gives it away. 

"How'd you know? Monitoring my calls, Krycek?" Mulder keeps his voice light and sips at the hot coffee, waiting. 

Krycek throws him a slightly surprised glance. "No. It just seems like the obvious answer." 

"I'm curious though. How'd you know Gibson's in Arizona? Do they keep tabs on him still? How would they know where he is?" 

Krycek shrugged. "I don't think 'they' do. I just know that Smith's group keeps track of him because he's special. They know where all the hybrids are." He gives Mulder a look. "Including you." 

It's Mulder's turn to lift his eyebrows. "Do tell." 

Krycek gives him a little smile. "Implants, Mulder. They're an amazing thing." 

Mulder sighs expansively. "Let's see, just how many factions have implanted me, so far? How many would you say I have? My ankles? My sinuses? My ass?" 

Krycek shakes his head. "I'm sure we can rule out your ass, after the thorough examination I gave it last night. But if you want me to probe you again, hey, it's your dime. And my pleasure." 

Mulder unaccountably feels his cheeks going warm. It's a curious sensation, because after all the years of making Scully squirm and blush, to be on the receiving end is... interesting. But Krycek is getting too personal and cocky for his liking. The whole 'gay' aspect of this isn't why he'd let it go so far last night. He realizes he's going to have to re-establish his role in this... relationship. "Maybe I should return the favor, Alex, and give you an anal probe. Just to be sure." 

"Anytime, anywhere," Krycek shoots back, his eyes sparkling a little, meeting the challenge with far too much enthusiasm for Mulder's liking. 

Mulder feels strange, simultaneously powerful and excited at having this sexually humming connection with Krycek, now that it's out in the open. But he also recognizes a certain amount of trepidation. Does Krycek think he's on top, here? His male pride quickly senses the need to assert itself. But he can't afford to start a scene now. He hasn't even finished his first cup of coffee. And they have a lot to do. 

He doesn't reply, merely returns Krycek's gaze, who, he notes with some satisfaction, quickly turns from intense to resigned. Mulder swiftly notices a curious sensation inside at this, too. Seeing Krycek vulnerable... it makes him feel strong. It also makes him feel possessive. He puts down the coffee on the counter and watches as Krycek finishes the last of his toast. With a lift of his head, he says, "Why Helena?" 

Krycek shakes his head, once. "It's just a stop along the way." 

Dryly, Mulder queries, "What makes you think you can just plan our itinerary without consulting me? I already had a route planned out, and where I'd be stopping." 

Krycek leans back against the counter, his arms folded across his chest. But he's grinning. "Which would you prefer, Mulder: a hard pallet covered with a blanket in a cold boxcar, or a king-sized bed in a honeymoon suite with room service, free porn and blowjobs on request?" 

"Depends who's giving the blowjobs," Mulder rejoins. 

Krycek scowls. "What about Scully?" 

"What about her? I don't really need her to give blowjobs if I've got you, do I?" 

"Don't you want to, you know, say goodbye?" 

"We already did all that, last night." At Krycek's look of relief, Mulder is touched. 

Laughing quietly, Mulder steps up to him and puts his arms up around either side of Krycek's head, bringing him in close before whispering against his lips, "Helena it is, then." Krycek's gone stock-still and silent, and Mulder gently but insistently kisses him, licking across those lips that admittedly will look fantastic wrapped around his cock, and sliding his tongue into that pretty mouth. 

Krycek's arms have gone around him tightly and he's moaning against Mulder's mouth, almost inaudibly, soft little moans that jerk and pull at Mulder's groin, practically losing him to the idea of pushing Krycek down here and now... that lovely mouth on his dick, God, yes... 

Krycek pulls away, stepping back but holding onto Mulder's arms. Breathlessly, Krycek points out, "We have to get going. Drink up." 

Mulder obediently picks up his coffee and chugs some of it down. "I could do with a hand packing up some of my things." 

"Consider it done. What do you want me to do?" Krycek looks efficient, prepared...his. All his. 

Mulder smiles at the thought. 

Krycek raises a brow. "Mulder?" 

Mulder sucks his lower lip between his teeth and nods. It feels right, like it should have been this way all along. "We finally got it right, didn't we?" 

Krycek looks a little haunted. 

Mulder frowns. "What is it?" 

Krycek licks his lips. "It - still feels too good to be true." 

Mulder downs the last of his coffee. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. We're here; we're together. Don't worry it out of existence before it's had a chance to develop." 

Krycek nods, imperceptibly and then moves away, past him. At the kitchen doorway, he says, "Want me to put your clothes in the spare bag in the bedroom?" 

Mulder says, deliberately, "Yes, love." 

Krycek freezes, tensing. Then he licks his lips again. And lets out a heavy breath. "Shit. We're never gonna get out of here," he mutters. He shoots an accusing glare at Mulder. "We don't have time to get into anything." 

Mulder shrugs. "My ass hurts too much, anyway." And he chuckles, as Krycek grins. 

* * *

Alex is driving. He's had to put on a pair of shades because the morning sun is so bright against the windshield. It didn't take them long to get Mulder's things ready and the bags out to his car which he'd already filled with his own stuff while Mulder slept. He didn't get enough sleep but he doesn't care. It's better than insomnia, in any case. 

He can't stop a private smile from sliding over his face at the memory of what transpired the previous night. With nothing to lose, he'd taken a chance and ended up gaining everything. Jackpot, the lottery, the golden ticket. 

Mulder has fallen asleep in the car in the seat beside him during the drive. 

They're taking an alternate route to another airport, just because Mulder has been through Dulles so often in the past ten years that he'd probably be instantly recognized by someone. 

He can't stop surreptitiously taking long gazes at Mulder's sleeping profile. The bright morning sunlight is falling directly onto Mulder's face and it illuminates him like a marble god brought to life under its rays. Alex finds himself checking the impulse, yet again, to take his gloved right hand off the wheel and caress Mulder's cheek, his jaw... 

He tightens his grip on the wheel and tries to control his breathing. 

He feels a little like a chauffeur, and is quietly rejoicing in the glory and honor of being allowed to travel with Mulder, to actually help, to actually take care of him. He never expected Mulder to let him. And he was absolutely amazed when Mulder backed down so fast and just... allowed him to take charge of their itinerary. He felt it was a gift... that Mulder would trust him and actually let him prove himself to Mulder. Not to mention make it up to him for all the times in the past that he hadn't been overtly there for him. 

Alex still couldn't help thinking that there had to be a catch in this scene, somewhere. But he wasn't going to fuck it up this time. Not when it seemed that he had a real chance, a real hope of being with Mulder. 

He glanced over at Mulder again, wonderingly. Mulder, trusting him. Mulder, loving him. Accepting him. Forgiving him. It was a miracle. An even greater miracle than finding himself resurrected, Jeremiah Smith's quiet, dignified countenance hovering over him after a terrible fall into blackness in the wake of his demise in the FBI car park. 

It had been black, cold, harsh and horrifying, sliding into a coma-like state only to find himself revived, his lungs screaming at the new sensation of taking his first breaths like a newborn baby. That horrific sense of disorientation, time loss and falling, as he realized - no, not alive again, please! No more. Rest! But to have to continue to live. He'd wept. And then Smith had placed his hand on Alex's forehead and a restful, peaceful darkness had come. 

Unfortunately, his memories were intact and pure so he'd been unable to seek refuge from the pain of the past and his own death. But with the Healers' help, he'd recovered. Not being one to wallow in safety or self-pity, Alex had left them even as Smith had cautioned him that he needed more time. But Alex had never done well existing on the charity of others. And besides, he wasn't exactly happy to find himself still carrying on. Smith had explained that he was clearing a debt, for having saved Fox Mulder's life in giving him the vaccine that brought the man back. Smith had felt he'd failed Mulder, and owed Alex for having done the deed for him. This was his payment, to restore Alex to life. 

Disgruntled, Alex had not killed himself although the depression that followed was terrible. He couldn't do it, not when Mulder was still alive. That was when he'd realized he was well and truly fucked: he was in love. It had been scary to know that love was why he kept going, and that it was his new ideal. His only ideal. He had doubted that Mulder would approve or even believe it. 

This miracle. Mulder, trusting him... sleeping in the car next to him and trusting him to take care of him. It was an honor that he wasn't even sure he could truly do justice, but he'd be damned if he didn't follow through. 

As they'd got into the car and pulled away from the curb, Mulder had mentioned that this was his retirement. Mulder recognized there was little more he could do, either in the FBI or for Dana Scully or even their son. He had to do something for himself and in fact was endangering them simply by not removing himself from the picture. Alex had agreed, wholeheartedly, wishing he could stop feeling guilty for selfishly reinforcing and encouraging Mulder's reasoning - for his own selfish purposes. 

Finally, finally, the Fox is his. His! The exultant triumph is enough to make his pulse leap in his veins. A fresh sense of renewed victory flows through him, revitalizing his hope in the future and helping him to let go of the fear and the pain of what they'd both been through. 

"You look happy," Mulder quietly observes from beside him, making him tear his eyes from the road in surprise. Mulder's watching him from beneath barely-raised eyelids, blinking in the sunlight. 

"Yeah," he agrees, quickly watching the road again. 

Mulder flips down the shade, to Alex's chagrin. He's rather enjoyed watching the sun on his face. 

"How're you doing?" he asks. 

Mulder is quiet for a few moments. "This actually feels very familiar to me. I've been in cars with you so many times over the years, it feels kind of... I don't know, second nature." 

Alex grins widely. "We have, haven't we?" 

He keeps his eyes on the road, and realizes it is Mulder's turn to watch HIM. He feels a curious hot thrill going over his body at this. To have Mulder's intense focus on him, it's like having a sentient laser trained on him. It's wonderful to have the attention and yet a bit daunting. They haven't spoken much since they got in the car but every word feels momentous, as if they are laying the groundwork of their new relationship. 

"If you need me to take the wheel for a while, let me know," Mulder offers. 

Alex flicks a glance at him. "I'm fine. Thanks." 

Mulder folds his arms across his chest and sits up straighter. "So, Alex. Talk to me. Tell me something." 

Puzzled, Alex asks, "Like what?" 

"How about why you finally decided to come over last night, for starters?" 

Alex lets out a breath. Talk about a loaded question. Keeping his gaze intently fixed on the road, he replies, "I guess I got tired of waiting for life to hand me lemons and calling them sour grapes." 

Mulder considers this. "You're mangling your references. Are you trying to tell me you're a fruit? Or that I am?" 

Alex chuckles and tries to explain. "No, I guess I'm just trying to say that I got sick of- of not having what I wanted. Of always having to sacrifice my own desires for the sake of others' needs or what the situation demands." 

Mulder appears to be thinking this over seriously. "We're going to be there soon. In about fifteen minutes we'll reach the airport. I have to say, Alex, that coincides with what I decided, myself." 

"It does?" 

"Yeah. When I decided to go into hiding." 

Alex allows himself a long look at Mulder. "It doesn't have to be hiding." 

But now Mulder is sniggering. "Not with you, it won't be. Our honeymoon," he adds, meaningfully, a humorous note lacing his words. 

Alex shifts uncomfortably in the seat. "I didn't mean it like that." 

"Oh, I did," Mulder answers. "You're mine now, and I'm not gonna take any lip over it, either." 

Alex finds his brows climbing high at this. He is stunned, and tries to cover it with a casual reply. "Oh, really?" There is the sense of a challenge being thrown down before him. He will take it up. Yes. Just as soon as he figures out what it is. 

Mulder merely sniggers again. Alex finds it more ominous this time. "I'm not your new toy," he growls. 

Mulder merely continues to grin at him, fatuously. It's getting on his nerves. 

Abruptly, Mulder's hand is on his right leg, above his knee, the sensation of that hot hand warming through his jeans and making his cock jump. 

"No, you're not. You're my new lover. Except... it's not exactly new, is it, the way you feel about me?" 

Licking his lips, Alex grates out, "If you don't want me to pull over, you'd better stop." 

Regretfully, Mulder removes his hand. "You're no fun," he pouts. 

Alex can't tell if Mulder is actually sulking or if he's just ribbing him. He's in the middle of trying to sort out an immediate sense of both trying not to take it too seriously and wondering if he's not taking it seriously enough, when Mulder places his hand on his shoulder briefly and squeezes once, before withdrawing again. "Hey, it's okay. I'm okay with this, here. You and me. Really." 

Feeling awkward at actually feeling grateful for Mulder's reassurance, he replies, "Me, too. It's just... we're about to get out and about and I'm a little concerned about keeping an eye out for spooks and ghouls. You never know who might be waiting around corners, you know?" 

"Uh-huh." Mulder's admission has all the weighty tone of someone who doesn't believe a word of what he's just heard, and in fact knows the truth probably better than Alex does. 

Alex nearly snorts. After all, he isn't even kidding himself. He still can't believe that Mulder is sincere about them being together. Hell, he'd have a hard time believing anyone who'd have hurt him as much as he's hurt Mulder over the years. 

And all of what Mulder said to him the night before feels very far away. 

He swallows as he takes the turn off the highway to the airport, wishing that he could just erase the past and enjoy this time with Mulder. But he can't help wondering if it will last. How long can they keep it up? 

* * *

Krycek is quiet and watchful, almost hyper-alert as they ditch the car, take their bags into the airport and pick up their tickets before settling down to wait to board the plane. 

It doesn't take them long, even in the wake of more stringent security after the events of 9/11, and soon, they're sitting in mutual silence and tension. 

Sitting beside Krycek, Mulder wants to talk, to say something to get the man to relax, to drop the anxiety and tense shield he's erected once more around himself. 

He finds himself wondering if they can really do this, let go of the past enough to even start to get to know each other. Maybe it's too little, too late. But no, he resolutely commands in the privacy of his mind, I'm not going to let go of this now. 

It wasn't a hallucination the previous night when Krycek brought his heart to him and offered it to him, still beating with obvious longing even after all the years they'd endured the mutual hostility and mistrust. 

But he has to go easy. Krycek's obviously still skittish like a wild horse that didn't yet trust him not to use the crop. 

Damn it, just sitting here beside him in a public place is enough to give Mulder a hard-on. Mulder gulps and squirms in place, suddenly overcome with a previous fantasy he remembers from years back, of wanting to frisk Krycek bodily, dragging him away to a private room in the airport for a personal, physical, full-body cavity search. Mulder finds his gaze drifting down to Krycek's lap, to his left, and wonders what it would feel like to fuck him. To drag the man's jeans down over his hips, tearing down his shorts in the process, and baring that ass. That beautiful cock that he'd salivated over the night before. They hadn't had enough time to properly explore each other. Jesus, how long was the flight to Helena, anyway? And how long would it take them to get all their shit up to the hotel room and get settled with a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door before they could fuck themselves into oblivion? 

Krycek's wry comment breaks his reverie. "Do we need to visit the little boy's room, Mulder?" He lets his gaze pointedly drop to Mulder's own jeans, which are obviously rising. 

Mulder shifts in his seat, throwing his jacket over himself to hide his erection and crossing his legs uncomfortably. With dignity, Mulder answers, "Speak for yourself. I'm just enjoying what's mine." He lets his gaze rove over Krycek again, openly and possessively. 

"Sure," Krycek smiles, secretively. 

Too smug. Far too smug, by half. Mulder leans over and says quietly, "I hope you kept the lube handy, because when we get into the hotel I'm going to fuck you until you scream." 

The smirk drops away from Krycek's face and is instantly replaced with a look that Mulder can only interpret as pure lust. Desperate, enthusiastic desire. Krycek blinks, his eyes gone completely dark. "Mulder," he begins, only to seem unable to complete what he was going to say. His eyes dart around at their fellow passengers for the upcoming flight slowly filtering into the lounge. 

"Damn," Mulder says. "I'm never gonna be able to sit in an airport lounge again without throwing a boner. Krycek, this is all your fault." 

Incredulous, Krycek looks at him. "Fuck, I've been having to suffer that ever since Hong Kong." 

Mulder finds a warm, fuzzy feeling turning his lips up in a goofy smile. "You have? For me? Really?" 

"Well," Krycek explains, "not that I liked having you attack me, but the thrill of wondering if you might actually be lurking around someplace does tend to make me dream about airports." 

"Yeah, you mentioned that dream last night, didn't you? With the car wash." Mulder is still smiling at him. 

"I don't like flying, I prefer driving. But that's probably because I've been in cars with you before, too." 

"So you get hard while driving too, thinking about me?" At Krycek's little smile of assent, Mulder finds himself laughing quietly. "That's so cute." 

Krycek makes a sound of disgust. "Please." 

"No, it is. It really is. That's very sweet." Mulder is sincere. 

Krycek meets his gaze momentarily. Then looks down. Jesus, it is so easy to get to him, Mulder thinks victoriously. And so fun. Krycek isn't blushing yet, but he suddenly finds himself inspired to try to reach the point where Krycek will. 

Gazing at him, Mulder says, softly, "Marry me?" 

Krycek stiffens, his knee jerking - in fact, his whole body jerks. 

Mulder waits. Sure enough, a rosy hue stains Krycek's cheeks. It flashes over his whole face this time and Krycek finally raises his eyes to meet Mulder's. He doesn't say anything. He looks like he can't speak. He looks half-afraid, half-wild like if they weren't in a public place Mulder might find himself on his back on the floor with Krycek on top of him. Those eyes stare him down this time, with too much in them and all unsaid. 

Mulder gasps a little, not realizing the full extent of what he's just instigated with his words until this moment, seeing the depth of Krycek's response - however unspoken. 

"Don't-" Krycek pauses, hesitating with his brows crinkling in that endearing way he has. "Don't you dare be fucking with me. I mean it, Mulder." 

Somehow it doesn't sound like a threat, it sounds like a plea. Despite his dark, menacing tone. 

"I'm not." And to his surprise, Mulder finds himself able to claim it with total confidence and cool rationality. Because he means it. And wonders suddenly how he knows that Krycek isn't fucking with HIM. 

They both jump as the PA system suddenly and raucously calls for all passengers for Flight 267 to Helena to report to Gate 3 in Terminal 2. 

They silently and swiftly turn to get ready, getting up, even though they are sitting right next to the airline desk in the lounge. 

They are silent. They wait together, until they are finally allowed to board the plane. As they file along with the other passengers and walk on board the plane, Mulder thoughtfully considers what he's just done. He lets Krycek precede him, watching how the man walks with that unconscious sensual grace, like a prowling cat. And ponders the wisdom and folly of proposing to Alex Krycek after a single night of sex. 

Scully would say he was crazy, but then Scully always said that. 

Oh well. It is probably the least life-threatening decision he's ever made. And then wonders how he can be so at ease and certain that it is. 

That Krycek isn't leading him, stringing him along. That it isn't just an act. But the blush response and erections are too difficult to fake and besides, Krycek kept blushing and springing boners not at the obvious sexual innuendo - but when he lets drop romantic words... No, Krycek is his. 

As they buckle themselves into the seats, Mulder turns in his window seat. He leans over and whispers in Krycek's ear, "So what's it gonna be?" 

* * *

Alex's heart is pounding as he looks back at Mulder. He remembers he didn't really answer Mulder properly and now Mulder's expecting a reply. Marry him? He was joking, right? Or at least, referring to the whole 'honeymoon' reference. Wasn't he? How serious is this? 

He licks his lips, unable to help noticing how Mulder's eyes drop hotly to watch his tongue move over them. Swallowing, he manages in a hoarse whisper, "Okay. When and where?" Calling his bluff. 

But Mulder merely smiles at him gently, like he's pleased him, and replies in a low voice, "Give me your hand." 

Alex glances around the interior of the airplane. People are busily putting hand luggage in the compartments above the seats and somewhere a baby is crying as people jostle past each other. Mulder's hand is extended, waiting. 

Alex takes it, feeling light-headed. Mulder waits. Alex realizes Mulder's waiting for his full attention and he meets Mulder's eyes, at which point Mulder squeezes his hand. 

Not removing his eyes from Alex's face, Mulder quietly affirms, "I'm yours. Are you mine?" 

Alex tries to speak but his voice is thick and his throat has almost closed up. He clears it and starts again. "I'm yours, yeah." Mulder's eyes hold his and he tries to figure what Mulder is thinking. 

It's almost too much. He wants to pull away and catch his breath. He realizes he's trembling slightly and Mulder's hand is steady. Fuck. This is... too much. Too much all at once. But Mulder's expression is kind. Watching him. Finally Mulder says, "Okay." And he smiles again, releasing Alex's hand. 

The flight attendants are now moving down the aisles on either side, checking to make sure everyone's buckled in and all is well. 

Alex draws in a shuddering breath. How the FUCK is he supposed to sit here for hours and hours beside Mulder without kissing him, without even touching him? Because if he touches him, he won't be able to stop touching him and then they're going to be arrested. Or something. 

Hours! He wants to groan. It's going to be torture! It isn't fair. He looks around them, for the nearest set of toilet cubicles... Aha, up there, not too far away. He licks his lips, wondering how cramped they'd be and if he could get Mulder to join him there. He really doesn't give a damn that anyone might notice they're both in there, either. 

"Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?" Mulder asks, sardonically, his eyes also trained on the toilet doors. 

"Just trying to cover all the angles. It might be good to have something worked out beforehand." 

"Way ahead of you. I'll go in first, you come in after me - give me about five minutes, alright?" 

Alex stifles a gasp at this and swallows. Covering his surprise that Mulder is so eager to do this, he grins. "Right." 

Sometimes, when he'd previously been in airplanes about to take off, Alex would get anxious. He is surprised to find that this time, there is absolutely no concern whatsoever that someone might have followed them aboard, or that there is anything wrong with the plane, or even that there might be someone waiting at the other end. 

As the plane starts to taxi down the strip, in fact, he finds himself filling with exhilaration. He's getting harder by the minute. Pretty soon it's going to be downright painful. He rubs his face and lets out a breath. 

Mulder is staring out the window, watching as they pick up speed. "If you want to jerk-off, I'm sure you could manage to come just as we lift off the ground." 

"I'm sure," Alex mutters. "I imagine I could do it even better with you here to help me." 

Mulder turns to him. "Are you asking for my help?" 

"Do you want me to go down on you first? Or do you want to do me?" 

Mulder shrugs. "Depends who's more desperate, doesn't it?" 

Alex nods. "Me first." 

"You know, I'm looking forward to this. I've always wondered what it would be like to make you come in my mouth," Mulder says, calmly. 

Alex wonders if anyone would really be surprised if he were to go down on Mulder here and now, and make HIM come as they took off. 

Oh, too late. They are already lifting up into the air, that familiar stomach-drop quickly replaced with the sense of speed and flight. He finds himself staring at the seat-belt sign which is still lit up, damn it. 

He notices Mulder is watching it, too. And can't help laughing quietly as they both wish for it to blink off. Off. OFF! 

But their plane is still climbing and it's going to be quite a few minutes. His heart is pounding and he's trying not to think about what he's just avowed with Mulder. They belong to each other. Mulder is his. HIS. Mulder keeps letting drop little proprietary remarks. In fact, not even little ones. Pointed remarks, which make him feel wanted. 

The sudden emotion of wistful desire for more than just sex is replacing his preoccupation with what they are about to do when they can freely move around the plane... He finds the heat and lust in his body taking a back burner to the sensation of longing and love requited, consummated at last. Years spent dreaming about possibly having the regard and affection of Fox Mulder...coming true in a strange surreal whirlwind in the last - he checks his watch - fifteen hours. He hadn't expected hearts and flowers and here he was, getting so much more. Alex finds he's overwhelmed suddenly. He's been so used to bad news, to bad situations and pain, as well as being alone. His plate's so full now, heaped with riches and his heart can hardly believe that it's all real. 

Mulder's hand on his wrist brings him back. "You okay?" 

The solicitous, caring concern in that beloved voice almost undoes him. "Yeah, I'm fine." His answer is thick and he looks up at Mulder. 

"You're mine," Mulder mouths. Then leans closer and says, "Remember that." 

Alex looks down, smiling helplessly. Jesus, if his enemies could see him now. He's intimidated the best, cowed even the hardest of adversaries and manipulated hard-bitten politicians, even gotten whole countries to jump to his tune. And here, with a soft touch, Mulder has the power to just... turn him to putty. 

With a ding, the seatbelt sign turns off. His attentive and startled look as he straightens in his seat makes Mulder laugh beside him. Chuckling, Mulder unbuckles and stands up. "Excuse me," he says, meaningfully, brushing past him. Alex can't help watching as Mulder's crotch moves across his line of vision. Hm. Mulder looks like he's experiencing some major swelling, himself. 

The seat beside Alex is empty and Alex realizes they're lucky no one was sitting there or they would have been treated to an earful. He watches as Mulder moves up ahead to the toilets and goes into one of them, shutting the door behind him. 

He waits. Drums his fingers on the arm of his seat. Waits some more. Checks his watch. Damn, the minute hand is taking fucking forever. He practices breathing. Deep and slow. And waits. It's been forty-six seconds. Forty-nine. He's not gonna make it to five minutes. 

He glances outside the window, frowning at the beautiful, bright bank of clouds below them, the thick pane refracting the rays of the sun with sharp plastic lines. He sits back, letting out a breath. SHIT! Damn it all. How the hell is he supposed to wait this long? 

Relax. Just... wait. Patiently. He waits as long as he can stand it and checks his watch. 

What?! Only two and half minutes have gone by! He grinds his teeth. A stewardess stops beside him. "Sir? Are you alright? Can I get you anything?" 

He stares up at her. "I'm fine, thanks," he murmurs, wondering if she has any idea that her very presence is distracting, irritating, and the thought of having to engage in any kind of extended communication with her is almost unbearable. But she moves away with a cheerful smile. 

Checks his watch again, swallowing. Not even three minutes have passed. His cock is so hard now that he doesn't know if he'll be able to walk without looking like a cripple. 

Fuck this! He unbuckles and gets up a little too quickly, swaying, and grabs the back of the seat in front of him. Quickly regaining his feet, he manages to get to the toilet door and opens it, seeing Mulder inside, and squeezes in. He manages to shut the door and lock it. 

They are face-to-face and so cramped he wonders how smart an idea this was. 

Then the smell of Mulder's arousal fills his nostrils and he breathes in. Oh God. It's too good. 

Mulder is laughing quietly. "You look amazing," Mulder says. "Are you alright, Krycek?" 

"Sit down," Alex orders him roughly, his hands going to his belt, loosening it and managing to rip open his jeans. 

Surprised, Mulder manages to balance himself on the edge of the seat. Alex wishes him luck with balancing on the edge while they do this, because at this point he's beyond caring. He pulls down his jeans and his shorts, watching as Mulder's eyes widen. 

He whimpers helplessly at the sight of the tip of Mulder's tongue as it dances across Mulder's fat lower lip. The knowledge that Mulder's mouth is imminently going to be sucking him into that hot cavern and the remembrance of what Mulder's tongue tastes like is too much. He gasps, his hips thrusting forward slightly. 

"Please," he breathes. And then gasps again as Mulder leans in and grabs Alex's right buttock with one hand, the other grabbing his cock around the base. Mulder's grip is tight and his skin is hot. Alex can't wait. He is practically panting, waiting for Mulder to come to terms with this. 

Oh thank God. Mulder opens his mouth and tentatively sucks in the head of his prick, the heat and the sweetly wet, silky feel of Mulder's lips on him makes him cry out. Then a surprisingly unexpected lick of that long tongue lashes upwards across his glans, making him jerk and groan out loud. 

Alex's head is more than light; it's dizzy. He puts out his hands to either side, grabbing onto the edge of the sink and leaning against the wall for support. Mulder's mouth is opening wider and taking more of him inside. 

**OH. GOD.**

So fucking GOOD. 

He realizes he's said it out loud as Mulder's answering moan reverberates on his cock, going down to the root and vibrating into even his balls. 

Mulder's questing fingers are rubbing against his testicles, which have grown heavy and tight up against him. 

Then one of Mulder's long fingers is slowly inserting itself up along his crack, between his legs. Alex's own thighs aren't spread wide enough and are holding Mulder's hand and wrist tightly between them as Mulder continues to worm his way with the finger. It feels delicious. He tries to spread his legs farther apart. He can't stop this even if he wanted to, as Mulder's wicked, evil tongue whips hotly over the head of his cock again, and then again and again, over and over as if on an ice cream cone. He wants to yell, and sucks each breath into his lungs repeatedly trying to get air. 

He's going to come. So hard. So good. He wants to fuck Mulder's wonderful mouth. But he's afraid of making him stop. So he tries to stand still and just let Mulder do it. 

Oh God. Over and over, that tongue, and now Mulder's backing up and then letting Alex's dick slide back into his mouth smoothly, and the rhythm and motion is driving Alex insane. 

Mulder's mouth pulls off of his cock with a wet smacking sound. 

Alex's eyes widen in horror. "No!" he gasps out, "don't-" 

"Just catching my breath," Mulder manages, licking his lips. "You're fucking delicious." And makes good on the comment with another dive onto Alex's cock, this time grabbing a better hold on it while worming his finger in deeper, rubbing against Alex's anus. As the tip of Mulder's finger slides easily into his body, he whines, even as Mulder's tongue starts up that whirling motion again, before taking more of him into his mouth once more. 

Alex feels a hot wave rise up his body, reaching with tendrils of shooting pleasure along all his nerve endings, feeling it in his fingers, his toes, making him shudder. 

Watching enraptured, mute and panting as Mulder's mouth slides back and forth over him, sucking him in and letting him pull out from between those lush lips, Alex feels his balls tighten and draw up impossibly. An almost frightening rush leaps over him, extending from his groin and through his cock, all over him. 

And then he's coming in Mulder's mouth, part of his consciousness aware that Mulder is sucking it all down, swallowing his juice, draining him, not letting up the sucking even as Mulder continues to move on his cock. 

With a keening, choked moan, he empties himself into Mulder, giving it all to him, pouring out the want and the need and the love. 

SO. GOOD. He is crying out. And Mulder is taking it all. 

Finally the surges start to recede and he realizes he's standing there breathless, staring down at Mulder who is licking away the last drops, bathing the head of his cock with long swipes of his tongue. It's even starting to become sensitive and a little painful. He backs away and finds Mulder's finger sliding into him a little deeper. 

Mulder withdraws his finger and with another wicked gleam in his eye, he looks up at Alex and meets his gaze as he puts his finger in his mouth next, and sucks at it, tasting him. 

Alex is speechless. 

Mulder tilts his head. "So, how'd I do?" 

"Mulder," Alex breathes out, wondering how he can form the syllables. 

Mulder chuckles. "Good." He reaches down and helps pull Alex's jeans back up, leaning in to kiss his wilting cock before pulling his shorts back up over it. 

As Alex lets him struggle with getting the belt and the buttons of his fly done up again, he wonders how the hell Mulder learned to suck cock so well. 

Mulder is pushing him back a little and trying to rise. "My turn," he reminds Alex. 

Together, they manage to trade places, Alex ending up scooting his butt up over the edge of the sink to let Mulder past. Sitting down on the edge of the toilet seat - fuck this is uncomfortable... he finds himself overcome. 

He can't help himself; he leans and takes Mulder around his upper thighs, pulling him against him, leaning his face against Mulder' right hip, clutching at his ass with his arms about him. And just holds him like that, with his eyes squeezed shut. 

Mulder's hand comes down on his head and strokes through his short hair. "Alex," he says, in a gentle, soft voice. 

Heartbeat after heartbeat, breath followed by breath. Alex's eyes are still closed, and he can feel the hard length of Mulder's erect penis against his ear where he's pressed against him. But he just wants to enjoy this. To love this man. 

He swallows. "I just... love you." 

He keeps his eyes closed. Waiting. Somehow it is frightening to say it aloud, but at the same... releasing. 

And fortunately, Mulder's voice comes to him from above: "Love you, too." 

Mulder is letting him hold him. 

With a shuddery breath, Alex realizes he's come down from the storm of his climax and the hurricane of accompanying sensations and emotions. He realizes poor Mulder has been waiting his turn and he desperately wants to return the gift of this experience to him. 

He fumbles at Mulder's jeans, opening them, Mulder helping him and then at last, there's Mulder's long, long cock. Oh fuck, even more large and beautiful than he remembered from the night before. And now, with it in his face, swaying before his eyes, he recalls that he didn't get a good look in the dark. He glances up, at Mulder who is staring down at him with an unreadable expression. 

"Always knew you'd be good," he says, admiringly. "And big." 

Mulder looks happy at this. 

And grabbing at it, he manages to get a good hold on Mulder's cock while Mulder braces himself in an echo of Alex's earlier stance. 

Hungrily, Alex quickly licks his lips and eyes the mushroom head before him, then licks at it. The salty rich flavor drenches his tongue and makes him salivate. He lifts off to swallow and then repeats it, licking like a cat. 

This elicits the most interesting noises from Mulder, above him. Trying not to smile, Alex breathes on the head and then nibbles at the gland, letting his lips go soft and slack, while making his tongue go flat so he can lick with broad swipes from the base up the stem. Repeating this, he realizes Mulder is starting to lose it already. Oh, he's close. 

Humming happily, he enjoys the smell of Mulder filling his nose, his world, and lets himself take the whole head into his mouth now, sucking down slowly, letting the girth of Mulder's cock fill his mouth. 

Beautiful. He backs up and does it again, loving the way Mulder groans at his movement. He licks at the head again. Mulder's precum has a rich buttery taste, not too salty and not too bitter. It's almost tangy. He realizes he's already addicted to it, licking with his tongue-tip at the piss-hole of Mulder's cockhead, trying to taste as much of it as he can. 

Mulder is practically squealing, a low-pitched sound that brushes over Alex's ears with a tender heat. God how he loves making this man tremble under his mouth, his touch. He makes a silent vow, to do this as often and as regularly as possible. 

But it's time to take Mulder all the way. He can't play around too much, or Mulder's balls are going to hurt. After all, Mulder's been waiting longer than he has. He starts to move up and down, back and forth, loving the sensation of fucking his mouth on this big cock. Mulder is gasping and making involuntary bucking motions, nearly dislodging Alex until finally Alex reaches around and holds him still, firmly. 

It seems to work, steadying Mulder enough for Alex to really get a good rhythm going. And without warning, Mulder's cock is suddenly erupting, a gushing cream fountain bursting inside his mouth. He almost chokes because there's so much. But he hadn't expected it to taste so good. Hot, flavorful, wonderful, and he drinks it down. Absently, he's stunned to realize he's never enjoyed this act so much before. In fact, he's avoided having to do it to men for the most part, because it never meant this much. But here with Mulder, it's all he can do to remember not to bite at him because the lust seizes him over and over, as he works his jaw and lets Mulder fuck his mouth with little thrusting motions. 

Mulder is whispering in a strained voice, "Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," over and over. 

The pulsing stops and there's just his mouth, drinking the essence of Mulder's body, sucking it out of him as Mulder's hand shakily lets go of the sink and rests on the side of his head. 

"Fuck. Alex." Mulder sounds totally out of it. 

Alex needs air and he finally, regretfully lets Mulder's cock go. And he looks up, licking his lips and seeing how Mulder's face has gone all soft, his eyes all dark and liquid. 

Then the ache of his back and the pain in his butt from balancing on the seat comes surging into his reality and he grimaces. "Gotta get up." 

"Yeah," Mulder murmurs, backing away. Mulder tries to do up his jeans but his fingers are still shaking. "You're fucking amazing." 

Alex finds his face split with a grin. "Thanks. You're not bad, yourself." 

They manage to get Mulder dressed and Mulder says, "See you soon." Then turns and manages to get out of the cramped room. Leaving Alex alone with his afterglow. 

Alex washes his hands, and splashes his hot face with water, wondering how the fuck he's supposed to act normal once he's back out there. 

He catches sight of himself in the mirror and thinks, holy fuck. It's very obvious what he's been doing. His eyes are over-bright and his face is still flushed. His hair looks like he's just had oral sex in a cramped airplane toilet. And he grins. 

If he'd known it would be like this with Mulder, he would have patiently and excitedly accepted every lonely night, every solitary day, with an eager and humble heart. 

Mulder's words return to him. 'Marry me'. He has the feeling Mulder was...really serious. That it isn't a game and that Mulder is just doing what Mulder usually does: going along with the flow of what life hands him. 

As Alex brushes his hand through his hair in a useless attempt to straighten it, he realizes he can do no less. If Mulder believes him, he will believe Mulder. 

With a contented smile and a happy glow inside, he leaves, returning to his seat. 

* * *

Mulder doesn't say anything as Krycek slides back into his seat next to him. 

He's surprised to find himself feeling a little strange at how good it was. He hadn't expected to love it so much. With a slight sense of shock, he realizes that he doesn't want to ever have it taken away. He doesn't know what to say, or even if it's necessary. They've gone so far, so high, launched into the air above the clouds along with the plane, coasting now on a jet stream of momentum in this... relationship. 

Everything he's been through, even the long weeks alone, have been burned away in the current train of events that began last night with Krycek's arrival at his door. 

The arrival of a dead man, carrying his heart before him like a badge of honor and courage. A sudden thought occurs to him. And he turns to regard Krycek. Who looks back at him. 

"What- what were you going to do, last night, if I didn't let you in? If I turned you away?" 

Something dark and old flickers across Krycek's face. It looks like pain. But it's fleeting. "I don't know." 

Krycek regards him and then, when he doesn't explain or continue, asks him, "How are you feeling about - us? What's going on in your mind?" 

Mulder considers the question. "Two different things. My heart feels lighter. My mind is kind of blown." He smiles at his own pun and waits for Krycek to smile. 

But Krycek says, looking down, "Me too." He looks back up at Mulder, meeting his gaze squarely. "I don't have any expectations. I'm just... playing it by ear, here." 

"Yeah, me too. In fact, I have to say that it feels good to just drop all the crap from the past, to just let it go. To say that here and now is all that counts. To take something for myself for once, instead of having to give it all up for a future recompense that never shows up. Always having to bank on happiness in the future without any present joy. Without any moments that are mine, and mine alone." 

Krycek looks thoughtful. "Then thank you for letting me share these moments with you." And his eyes slide away again. "It means more to me than you'll ever know." 

Mulder suddenly realizes what it is that he's feeling. It's a bone-deep satisfaction at having the respect, admiration and love from someone that seems to include his physical being, and his feelings, not just his mind or his abilities, his work or his passionate quest. People have both feared and admired him for that. Rarely has anyone wanted him for himself. Krycek wants all of him, not just a piece. And it makes him feel valued. Wanted. Loved. He smiles. 

"How long have you been in love with me?" Yeah, he's fishing, but he doesn't care. 

And to his surprise, Krycek lets out a single laugh, a chuffing breath in an undertone that doesn't sound mocking but still derisive. "Jesus, Mulder. It's been so long..." He trails away. 

"How long?" Mulder presses, curious now. "Since the beginning?" 

"Since before the beginning," Krycek admits, a rather endearing expression of diffidence seeming to take hold of him. 

"What do you mean?" 

Krycek has a little smile on his face, which further inflames Mulder's curiosity. 

"You mean before we met?" 

Krycek presses his lips together and takes a breath. He lets it out, decisively. "When they told me I was going to have to go through the actual process of making my way through the Academy to get into the FBI, that the training would be necessary and helpful, I didn't know what I was letting myself in for. I figured it would be helpful, considering I was already working for the KGB and had graduated from St Petersburg, at the Military Academy, with honors. Thanks to my father's connections. The Smoker, that smoking son of a bitch, had decided that I was supposed to be in the FBI because I'd be most useful to the Syndicate there. I had no idea why. I didn't even know who you were." 

"You didn't? You mean you never heard of me? I thought you had." Mulder is almost disappointed. 

"No, no. Not then. But then when I was there, I started hearing things, about the agent who was into little green men. About 'Spooky Mulder' who stayed in the basement. At first I ignored it all, but then I also started connecting the dots. There was a Syndicate member called Mulder, too." Krycek stops, abruptly, undoubtedly concerned to be bringing up the subject of Mulder's father. 

Mulder is merely annoyed at the interruption. "So what happened?" 

Krycek continues, "I started saying, you know, like, hey, give the guy a break, maybe he's not wrong, maybe he's onto something. And they were all 'oooh Krycek's got a crush on Spooky.' It was juvenile. Then one day I was in the cafeteria and I was walking by their table and they started saying, 'hey, Krycek, we're getting a lecture from Spooky Mulder tomorrow'. I shrugged. Like, why was I supposed to care." Krycek glanced at him. "Now, Mulder, don't take this the wrong way, okay?" 

"What? Take what the wrong way?" 

Krycek grins at him. "Well, I was in the lecture hall sitting there, waiting for Spooky Mulder to come out along with everyone else, expecting to see this pasty, nervous geek. I mean, the guy practically lived in the basement, you know? I thought you'd be this gawky, four-eyed nerd whose clothes hung off his bones, you know the type? Like a stork or something. So imagine my surprise when this tall, handsome guy walks in with a smooth voice and droll sense of humor, taking apart the hecklers with a brain so obviously honed and so sharp that it made them look like idiots. Which they were. But I was shocked. He was gorgeous. I mean, you were. I don't think I really paid close enough attention to what you were saying. And to be honest, I don't think most of the others did either, not the women or the men." 

Mulder squirms in his seat. "Wow. So you really dug me back then, huh?" 

Krycek gives him a knowing look. "Sure. Imagine my disgust later when the Smoker shows up at my apartment and says, 'I understand you saw Agent Mulder today. Were you impressed?'" 

"Ew! Krycek. Stop it. That impression's too good." Mulder isn't sure he wants to hear what happened next. 

"Well, I was like, 'yeah, so what?' He just puffed away in my face and said, 'Good. You'll have the opportunity to work with him in the future'. I didn't know what he meant back then, of course." Krycek suddenly stops. Again. 

Mulder waits. Krycek remains silent, staring off into space. Mulder clears his throat. "What happened then?" 

Krycek shakes himself. "Mulder, I- I didn't-" He stops again. And faces Mulder with a careful expression. Mulder can tell though from his voice and his words that he is filled with regret. "I didn't know what was going to happen. I didn't know what they wanted me to do. I swear. And if I'd thought I could get out of it alive, I wouldn't have gone along with it. I didn't want to hurt you." 

It is as close to begging on this kind of issue as Mulder has ever seen from Krycek. He has to admit that although he is feeling a thrill of power at having his righteous anger over Krycek's actions, he also didn't want this to degenerate into another free-for-all of blame. "I know," he says simply, and then says it again, letting a note of understanding color his words. "I know. 

At his reply, Krycek seems taken aback, like he had expected Mulder to get angry at this point. But he quickly takes it in stride. And offers with a smile, "So, yeah. I've been in love with you for a long time." 

"I thought so," Mulder grins at him. "I knew there was more to that kiss that you would ever admit." 

Krycek scoffs at him with a snort. "Come on; you've known all along." 

"I think I was afraid to admit to myself that I knew all along, as it would have meant admitting that I also felt it myself. That attraction." He looks up and holds Krycek's eyes. "This thing we have." 

Krycek lets out a breath and seems to relax all over. "Yeah. Me too." 

"Aren't you glad we made it to this point?" 

"Mulder, more than you'll ever know." 

Mulder considers him fondly. "Maybe we're blessed, after all." 

"Maybe you were right last night, about the phoenix." 

Mulder cocks his head at him. "About being reborn?" 

Krycek smiles, a smile that reaches his eyes and seems to come straight from his heart. "I feel like a phoenix. Risen out of the ashes of the past. Reborn to be able to be with you. You're my sun." He shrugs. "Nothing else seems to make sense, anyway." 

Mulder doesn't know how to reply. He contents himself with taking up Krycek's hand and kissing it, not caring about the fact that they are not alone on this flight. No one sees, after all. Not even the stewardesses coming through with trolleys laden with dinners. And it's worth it, to see the light shining in Krycek's eyes at his simple gesture. 

Having taken flight, they certainly seemed to have made it this far. Mulder can only hope that it won't be too dark when they return to earth. And then finds himself overcome at the thought of making good on his promise to make Alex scream when they reach the hotel. Grinning as he gazes out of the window at the flocking of white clouds below them, he allows himself the relaxation of knowing that, at least tonight, it won't be his ass that bears the brunt of their shared passion. 

Yes, he is going to make Alex scream all night long. He hopes the honeymoon suite is soundproofed. 

* * *

Continues with Chapter 3: Rose-Tinted World 

* * *

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Jami Wilsen


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